


Class Distinctions

by KMDWriterGrl



Category: The Nanny
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 04:50:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4422014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KMDWriterGrl/pseuds/KMDWriterGrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After sleeping together, CC and Niles discuss when … and if … they’re going to discuss their relationship with the Sheffields. Post-ep for “The Dummy Twins.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Class Distinctions

Niles couldn’t feel his right arm. It was still attached to his body, of course (at least he damn well hoped it was!) but there was nothing but tingling running up and down the length of it.

Bloody hell, isn’t that one of the symptoms of a heart attack? Oh blast, not again!

His eyes flew open as he experienced a jolt of panic.

But the panic quickly subsided when he saw the tousled blonde head lying on his right shoulder, exactly where it connected to his arm, very effectively cutting off his circulation.

Even asleep she liked to cause him pain.

He grinned, shifting just enough to take the weight of her head off of his shoulder so he could get his circulation back. She sighed and shifted her own position slightly before settling more heavily against him, the curve of her ass brushing up against his groin. His grin broadened; dear lord, the reality of having CC Babcock finally—FINALLY—in his bed was even better than his fantasies.

Except for the part where she was cutting off the circulation in his arm.

He couldn’t pinpoint the first time he started fantasizing about her; maybe he always had! He simply hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the fact that he was constantly crossing over that thin line and back again. Miss Fine had ultimately been the one to point out that what he and CC were doing looked more like foreplay than sworn enmity.

Certainly they’d had their moments in which they’d enjoyed each other’s company. There was the night he took her to the Broadway producer’s benefit--ultimately free of charge since he’d ripped up her check. Then there was the week of shared flirtation after eating some of Mrs. Sheffield’s aphrodisiac almond cookies. And, of course, the evening they got drunk together and shared an intensely overwhelming kiss … only to be interrupted by Mr. Sheffield and Miss Fine.

Yes, he and Babcock had had a good run … a fine flirtation. But he was overjoyed … more so than his British upbringing would allow him to express … that she was finally in his bed, her blonde hair alluringly disheveled, her skin still flushed from the intensity of their lovemaking. He leaned on his right arm—pins and needles be damned!—and brushed her hair away from her face. She opened her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile.

“Why are you leering at me, Butler Boy?” Her affectionate touch on his cheek took the sting out of her words.

“I’m not leering; I’m sneering,” he corrected, leaning down to kiss the curve of her shoulder. “You’re awfully grotesque.”

“Look in a mirror if you want to see grotesque.” She turned toward him and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers. Their mouths came together, hot and demanding, and Niles rolled on top of her…until his still-numb arm protested and he had to roll quickly onto his back again.

“Problem?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Your enormous head cut off the circulation in my arm.” He raised his arm straight up in the air and made a fist, opening and closing it to get the blood flowing again. “It’ll be a minute.”

“That’s about how long it took you last time,” she kidded. Her hand slid underneath the covers to wrap around him and they were off to the races again, only coming up for air once they were both sweaty and satisfied.

“I’ll give you this, Niles,” CC said, trying to get her breath back, “you’ve got amazing stamina.”

He waited for the zinger that was sure to follow and got it a moment later when she added, seemingly as an afterthought, “ … for a dirty old man that is.”

He kissed her forehead. “Same to you, witch.”

She cuddled up against him and they let their breathing slow down.

“How’s your heart?” she asked, tracing her fingers up and down his chest. “I, um, probably should have asked that beforehand, shouldn’t I … if I was a caring human being I would have.”

Niles smiled, touched that she had even bothered to think of it. “It’s fine,” he said gently. “Thanks for asking.”

“I notice you weren’t quick to disabuse me of the notion that I’m not a caring human being,” she said stiffly, and he knew that for all her insults and snarkiness, her seeming frigidity was nothing but an act. CC Babcock, deep under all of her protective layers, was about as human as the rest of them.

“In your own peculiar Babcock way you are,” he said, stroking her back. “I like you that way. You may not have a heart of gold like Mrs. Sheffield, but I’ll take yours of rusty tin any day of the week.”

CC gave an inelegant little snort at that and rested her head on his chest over his heart.

He would NEVER have taken her for a cuddler, not in a million years. He’d imagined what sex would be like with CC Babcock with increasing frequency but in not a single one of those daydreams was she the sort of woman who would curl up against him after a round—or two—or three—of sex. It was a surprise … but a welcome one. He let his hand move up and down her bare back and up into her hair, stroking until she was practically liquid against him.

“So … when shall we tell Mr. Sheffield?”

“Mmm… tell Mr. Sheffield what?” she murmured, half asleep.

“About us.”

“What about us?”

“That we’re not leaving.”

“In the morning,” she mumbled, shifting so that she was lying on her stomach. “Rub my back, please.”

It was possibly the first time he’d heard the word please from the mouth of the woman who was used to imperiously ordering around anyone who crossed her path, so he obliged, sliding his palms up and down her very soft, very pale skin.

“And then?”

“And then what?” Now she was starting to sound impatient. “Niles, we’ve just had sex, can we forgo the conversation?”

“I think it’s a good idea to let him know that we’re … involved.”

That got her attention. CC rolled over, blinking. “I’m sorry. We’re what?”

“Involved. That IS what you call it when two people enjoy each other carnally.”

“Noooo,” she said slowly. “That’s called being friends with benefits.” She laughed a little. “Since we’re barely friends, I don’t know what you call this. But it’s definitely not involved.” She saw Niles’ hurt expression and laid a hand on his arm. “Look, Butler Boy, this is a hell of a lot of fun … you’re better in bed than I EVER imagined you could be … but it still doesn’t mean I’m going to marry you. It doesn’t matter how many times you ask me. I’m not the marriage type.”

“Not the marriage type?” he parroted stiffly. “So then why have you spent all these years trying to get Mr. Sheffield to marry you?”

CC made a great show of studying her nails. “That’s different. He’s … and I’m … and we’re both …”

“If you’re about the pull out the excuse of class distinctions let me remind you that I’m an Oxford graduate,” Niles said, straightening his back and doing his best to look dignified … which was rather difficult considering that he was only covered in a sheet from the waist down.

“Which is a point in your favor,” CC conceded. “But you’ve all ready told me that your family is from a long line of people who work below the stairs. And the Babcocks don’t marry …” She trailed off before she’d have to actually say what was on the tip of her tongue.

“The help,” Niles exploded. “Babcocks don’t marry the help is what you were about to say. God in heaven, woman, you’re not British aristocracy! You’re from mainline New York society which, to the British, is no kind of society at all!”

CC’s mouth shaped an “O.” “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, get the bloody hell over yourself, woman! You act as if class is the only thing that matters when it’s gotten you nothing so far but an empty bed and too many late nights with a bottle of booze!”

When tears built up in her eyes he knew he’d gone too far. “Bloody hell. CC …” He laid a hand on her arm and she shrugged him off, swinging her legs out of bed and reaching for her clothes. “You know what? Fine. If an empty bed is what you want instead of this, then go ahead, MISTER Darcy,” he sneered, placing the emphasis on “mister” because some habits are singularly hard to break. “Head back to Pemberley.”

CC stopped putting on her clothes, her back still turned to him. “I don’t know why it matters so much,” she said softly. “Probably because it’s all my parents cared about—appearances, that is. The right house, the right car, the right country club. I grew up with all of it right under my nose.”

“As did I,” Niles said. “You seem to be under the impression my family isn’t well-to-do. We’re not Sheffield rich … but we’re not dirt poor either. My family chose a life of service because we’ve long been devoted to the Sheffields … not through some sort of oath of fealty, but simply through long association. If you think I couldn’t do something else if I wanted to, you’re badly mistaken.”

“Then why?” CC asked, turning around and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Why do you stay? Why aren’t you a lawyer or a stock broker or, really, anything else? Why do you stay with him?”

“Because he’s my friend,” Niles said simply. “And because of the children. I’ve watched them grow up. I’ve had to, at times, be a father to them when Maxwell couldn’t. They’re my family.”

“Oh.” CC’s voice was very small. “I hadn’t … I never thought of it that way.”

“Might that be because your own family is … well …” Niles trailed off because he couldn’t think of a polite description. He’d met her family … her parents were ice cold and her brother snobbish and cruel.

“Stand-offish is the word you’re looking for,” CC supplied. “Cold, if you’re feeling particularly spiteful. Just like me.” Her voice was stiff but he’d caught the slight quiver to her lip before she’d turned away.

He slid over to the edge of the bed and laid a hand on her arm. “Hey,” he said softly. “Witch.” She turned to meet his gaze. “Come here and I’ll warm you up.”

His smile was so genuine, his eyes so kind that she could do nothing but give in. She moved back into his arms and gave in to the impulse to wind her arms around him and hug him tightly.

“Good god, woman, you’re like a boa constrictor,” Niles complained unconvincingly. “Are you trying to squeeze me to death and swallow me whole?” He rested his forehead against hers and kissed her gently.

“Speaking of giant snakes,” she said with a wicked grin, sliding her hand under the sheets. “Are you up to another round?”

“Think you can handle it … brunette?”

“You KNOW I’m a natural blonde,” she smirked, grabbing his hips.

“Fine. Think you can handle it … Brunhilde?”

“That’s more like it.” She rolled them until she was straddling his hips, her hands on his chest. “I might need a little something to eat after this. I’m famished.”

“I live to serve,” he replied, tangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her down to him for a kiss. “Can you handle THAT?”

CC gave him a genuine smile. “I could get used to it.”

END


End file.
